


To Hell With Morality

by Llaeyro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Daily Deviant, Dirty Talk, Grinding, M/M, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llaeyro/pseuds/Llaeyro
Summary: Written for Daily Deviant's Kinky Kristmas prompt: Remus Lives AU: Remus has come back to teach DADA for Harry's 8th year. Remus is having a hard time remembering that fucking one of his students is avery bad idea, especially when Harry is very much of age and making no secret of his desire.





	To Hell With Morality

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gracerene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/gifts).



> This was a quick little thing written for a comment fest. I'm happy with it for what it is, but the characterisation is too questionable and premise too flimsy for this to be any longer. I do have another Remus/Harry work though, and more in my WiP folder so watch this space.
> 
> TL;DR - No sequels, sorry.
> 
> [Read on IJ](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/daily_deviant/712521.html?thread=14475081#t14475081)   
>  [Read on DW](https://llaeyro.dreamwidth.org/71870.html)

"Hey, Remus," said Harry, casual as anything as he wandered boldly into Remus's office without knocking.

Remus raised an eyebrow but didn't look up from the desk. "That's Professor Lupin to you, Mr Potter."

"Whatever you're into," Harry shrugged, half-sitting half-leaning against the desk, arse touching the corner of the parchment Remus was marking. "I thought the whole student/professor thing was the main problem but I'll call you that if you want, _Professor_."

The last word was so loaded, so suggestive that Remus had to take a slow breath. He looked up at Harry and oh, that was a mistake. He had changed out of his robes, lessons being finished for the day and his plain black v-neck and skinny jeans hugged every curve of muscle on his slender frame. Remus's primary undoing, though, was going to be what Harry had in his mouth. Remus assumed it was originally a pale orange mouse pop from Honeydukes, although Harry's sucking and licking of it had turned it into something smooth, shapeless and rather phallic. Remus turned back to the pile of homework, not without difficulty.

"We've discussed this, Mr Potter. You are a student and I am your professor. I have parchment to mark, so good evening to you." Remus was grateful of the desk hiding his lap, but he had to fight the urge to shift in his seat, anything to relieve some of the pressure of layers of fabric against his now hard cock. He knew Harry would recognise the move for what it was. He mustn't provide him any further excuse to pursue this forbidden liaison.

"I know we've discussed it, Professor," Harry began, slowly sashaying to the side of the desk, "But I'm a slow learner you see. I need you to teach me." There was a wet, dirty sound as Harry sucked again on his lollipop and Remus couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine.

"Harry, please. This is entirely inappropriate." Remus could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. He could feel himself starting to lose control of this whole situation. Harry was so close to him now, he could smell the cinnamon-orange tang of the sweet on his breath.

Harry straightened up, brow knitted in concern. "Have I crossed a line, Professor?"

Remus deflated a little in relief, giving Harry a small nod.

"In that case, you'd better teach me a lesson." And with that, he dropped his trousers and leant over the desk, raising his pert arse enticingly.

Remus stood, chair nearly toppling over behind him but he didn't care, all of his attention was on Harry. He knew he had stood to leave, because clearly that was the only sensible course of action here. Harry had been relentless, ever since he caught Remus watching him make his way, topless, to the Quidditch changing rooms. He wasn't a fool, he knew that a young, attractive man like Harry wouldn't have any long-term interest in him, but he would be happy to indulge him for a while. Not, however, while he holds such a position of power and responsibility over the boy. They only had to wait another three months, that was all. Three months was nothing, yet there was Harry, bent over Remus's desk with his pants around his ankles.

Delectable.

Remus raised his hand and quickly struck Harry's left buttock. "Is this what you want, Potter?"

Harry shot a grin over his shoulder. "You know what I want, Professor."

"Oh, I do." He stepped behind Harry, hands on bare hips, leaning forward until his bulge pressed against the crevice of Harry's arse. Harry gasped, then groaned when Remus pulled away. "But I also know that you do not deserve it, Mr Potter."

"Do you want me to beg?" He was already a little breathless, shamelessly rocking his hips, lightly rutting against the desk. "Is that what you're into, Sir?"

Remus made a non-committal noise as Harry reached behind himself and spread his cheeks. He turned away, scrubbing his palm over his face. He had to get out of there. He heard Harry shuffling and looked over his shoulder. Harry was still naked from the waist down but he had turned, leaning against the desk, cock jutting out from a nest of dark curls, eyes dark and wanting.

"Or would you rather I earn it on my knees?" He pushed away from the desk and knelt, barely a foot in front of Remus. "Crawl under your desk and worship your cock with my mouth before you let me ride you, is that what you want, Professor?"

Remus's head shook, his mouth opened and closed, but no sound was forthcoming. He stepped forward, hand reaching out shakily for Harry's jaw, fingers curling around the nape of his neck. He tugged and Harry followed, standing, looking up at Remus, lips parted.

He was gorgeous.

"Yes," Remus whispered, sealing their lips and death of his own conscience.


End file.
